


It's Only Half Past The Point of No Return

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 22:26:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6444475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wondered if Bruce would forget to call. After all, he never did for Jason. Dick had to find that information out second hand. Would this, a potential joyous occasion, be the same?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Only Half Past The Point of No Return

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know what this is. Damian’s resurrection. I’m sure y’all can figure the rest out yourselves. Based on ‘Glitter In The Air’ by P!nk.

~~

_Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone? Your whole life waiting on the ring to prove you're not alone._

~~

He wanted to pace. Maybe he _should_ pace. Get that energy out. Do _something_ , until it happened. Until _that_ crucial moment.

But no, pacing was a mindless motion. And an empty mind always tries to fill itself. His always filled with the bad stuff. With the stuff he’d rather forget.

And right now, in _this_ moment, in _this_ waiting game, his brain would only fixate on one thing, and one thing only.

Even as he tried to suppress the memories, they surged forward, and he could see it. See the scene ahead of him, the scene that everyone believed he was unconscious for.

Because that’s what they didn’t know. That’s what Dick kept secret.

He didn’t get knocked out, when the Heretic threw him into that case.

Oh, no. He saw the _whole thing_.

Granted, it was fuzzy, with darkness edging along the corners of his vision, but no. He saw it. He saw it _all_.

He saw Damian defend him. Threaten to break every moral he had to keep him safe. He saw the Heretic throw him around, like a cat does a mouse. He saw Damian beaten into the ground. He saw Damian stabbed through. He saw – barely – Damian get _murdered_.

He saw Damian stand up to his greatest fear – himself – and he saw Damian fall to it.

(He’d passed out, then. After it was all said and done. And when he woke up, he prayed it had all been a horrible dream. A side effect from his oncoming concussion.

He’d been wrong. So very, very wrong.)

Dick shook his head, mentally _screamed_ at the memory to leave. Tried to focus on the positives – like the fact that memory may mean nothing, here soon.

He slumped over the desk, closed his eyes, pulled at his own hair. It was always the waiting, that was the worst.

…He should have been there, he decided. Bucked everything Bruce said. Screwed the secret that he was still alive himself, and marched that front line with his brothers. With his _family_. Fought the aliens blood, tooth and nail to steal back the most precious treasure the universe had ever produced.

(Never mind the fact he didn’t protect that precious treasure in the first place.)

“Come on, B…come on…”

He wondered if Bruce would forget to call. After all, he never did for Jason. Dick had to find that information out second hand. Would this, a potential joyous occasion, be the same?

(Would Bruce try to hoard him for himself? It wouldn’t be the first time, after all.)

Or, what if the outcome wasn’t what was planned? What if the Batman failed?

Dick had to pace, now. Couldn’t stew in that spot, in those dark thoughts. Jumped up and walked the small perimeter of his dorm room over, and over, and over.

What if Batman failed?

What if he only brought home that corpse? What if he didn’t even get _that_ back? What if Bruce didn’t come back at all? What if Dick lost another brother – lost _Barbara_ – on this mission gone wrong?

What if Batman _failed?_

And Dick was left alone? Because…because he was his partner. His _Robin_. Because _no one_ understood him like _he_ did. Because Dick was an absolute _wreck_ without him – the past few months proved that.

What if Dick was really, truly forced to spend the rest of his wretched life without him?

“No.” He shook his head again. No, no, he couldn’t. He _wouldn’t_. This mission was going to succeed, it _was_.

And Dick was going to get his heart back.

He glanced back at the desk. The phone sat there, right where he left it.

…What if.

What if they succeeded, and he _hated_ him. What if he couldn’t _stand_ him. Tim hated him once, just a few years ago, and Dick almost crumbled under that, under the furious glare of his younger brother. This would be worse. Oh, this would be _so much worse._

He felt his chest tighten, his anxieties kick into overdrive.

Maybe he should tell Helena what’s going on. Or Tiger. Maybe he should hack Spyral’s computer, and find security cameras. Maybe he should just find himself a goddamn _spaceship_ and go to Apokolips himsel-

_Buzz, buzz, buzz. Buzz, buzz, buzz._

Dick spun around so fast it practically hurt. He stared as the phone went off again – _buzz, buzz, buzz. Buzz, buzz, buzz_ – before stumbling across the room. He ripped the phone from its spot on the desk, didn’t dare to look at any sort of ID, and answered the call.

“Hello?” He barked desperately, panting already, clutching the phone with both hands. Practically digging it into the side of his skull. “How’d it go? What happened?”

There was a pause, and every bad, dark, negative thought Dick had came crashing together in the center of his brain.

“…Grayson?”

The voice was groggy. Tired. Croaky, from disuse. Tentative, like he was unsure what he was hearing was real. Like he was unsure the line was going to be answered at all.

A smile broke out across Dick’s face.

“Is that you?”

Less tentative now, more hopeful. Tears welled in Dick’s eyes, overflowing almost instantly, as he slapped a hand across his mouth. Ran down his cheeks, over his fingers as he closed his eyes, and collapsed to his knees.

Damian. His partner, his Robin, his _brother_ , _his Damian_.

He was _alive_.

Batman _succeeded_.

A sob escaped his mouth, and he curled in on himself. Practically leaned his forehead against his knees, while still clutching at his face.

Damian’s voice was gentler this time. “…Grayson?”

“I’m here.” Dick blubbered, the words escaping as his hand fell away, like it were a cork and his words were fine wine. He suddenly heard Damian sniff, give his own little laugh that could have just as easily been a wail too, and knew the little boy was crying as well. “I’m here, kiddo.”

 _And so are you_ , Dick’s mind supplied, as he and Damian lapsed into a silence that was filled with the sounds of both their happy sobs. _Most importantly – so are you._


End file.
